A lot can happen in three years. Genres can change, morph, and even break up with each other. Rock, metal, and hardcore are no exception to the rule, and the band that utilises that unholy trinity to it’s full potential is Cave In.

2020 saw many a negative event happen, but one event that didn’t fall into that category was the release of We’re the Bastards, Phil Campbell and the Bastard Sons’ second full-length release. The demon spawn of years though also took away the Welsh quintet's ability to tour the record, which they finally got to do this month. Still brimming from their blazing set at this year's Bloodstock Festival, Phil Campbell and his band of bastard sons raised hell within the confines of Milton Keynes’ Craufurd Arms.

Anger and resentment runs through the veins of these unruly adults, misjudged teens and wayward children. Standing shoulder to shoulder under the angelic lights of London’s Eventim Apollo though, the unity is unanimous under the guidance of Welsh metalcore quartet, Bullet For My Valentine. Playing London on the release day of their seventh studio album, their self-titled release was subjected to trial by fire, scorching the high ceilings and burning the fibres of all who heard.

Ever wondered what Bullet For My Valentine's Jason Bowld orders in a fancy restaurant? How the band revived their ferocity on the new self-titled album? Or even how Jason exercises his chimp?

The past and present continuously insists on blurring the lines between our heritage and the future we are constantly carving every day, and London’s Royal Albert Hall is no different. The Grade 1 Listed amphitheatre dates back to 1871, and truly captures the grandeur of Victorian era Britain. Despite the towering glass doors and sleek-fitted bathrooms mixing with the classical stone architecture, the sound emanating from within the structure would make Prince Albert himself shudder.

As a species we are no strangers to development and evolution, having toiled and moulded the landscape around us to our will through centuries of learning from past mistakes.

It’s hard to get back into the rhythm of life after the past two years; one minute you’re ready to finally learn that language or that instrument that’s been collecting dust on your shelf all those years, and the next you’re eating a tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in bed binging yet another subpar Netflix sitcom.

Festering anger lingers on the tip of Iman’s tongue in this barrage of alternative metal hellfire, bubbling with white hot rage.